


wishing only wounds the heart

by fullmetallizard



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, Royai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 12:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4746572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetallizard/pseuds/fullmetallizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Riza is drunk and Roy takes care of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wishing only wounds the heart

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely do not own FMA.

     The team had never seen Hawkeye have anything much more to drink other than a beer or, on especially rare occasions, a glass of wine. They’d certainly never seen her drunk. So they were all surprised when she agreed to go to the bar with them and just plain shocked when Catalina convinced Hawkeye to do tequila shots with her.

     Roy sat at the opposite end of the table, nursing his beer and enjoying the light pink flush that crept slowly across his Lieutenant’s cheeks.

     “Riza!” Catalina laughed, once Hawkeye pulled the lime wedge out of her mouth. “When’s the last time you got this shitfaced?”

     “The academy,” she giggled back in an answer.

     Roy’s jaw nearly dropped once the sound hit his ears. Lieutenant Hawkeye did not _giggle_.

     “Wanna slow down a bit?” He heard Havoc ask. He’d just caught Hawkeye by the elbows as she stumbled a bit.

     “You’re cute, Havoc,” she slurred, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “It’s a shame the Colonel’s such a snake because you’re a real catch.” Havoc burst into laughter and Roy frowned into his drink.

     “I appreciate it, Ri. But why don’t you sit down and have some water?” She scoffed and threw an arm around Furey who immediately turned bright red.

     “I don’t want water. I want a vodka soda.” Her hair was falling out of its clip. She’d ditched her jacket, leaving her in her uniform pants and a black turtleneck.

     “Here you go, Riza,” Catalina smiled, sitting a glass in front of Hawkeye.

     “Thanks,” she grinned up at her friend. She looked loose and happy and Roy was sure he hadn’t seen her that way since they were teenagers. He felt his frown deepen. She’d clearly reached her limit and it was irresponsible of Rebecca to give her more to drink. He watched warily as Riza took a sip. She made a face. “Rebecca, this is missing the alcohol,” she explained seriously. Everyone at the table burst into laughter except Roy.

     He’d stopped paying attention and was considering leaving when Riza plopped onto the chair beside him.

     “Hi, Colonel.”

      “Lieutenant.” Her grin was toothy and lazy.

     “You looked lonely.”

     “You look drunk,” he answered lightly. He wasn’t upset exactly. But there was something… unsettling about Hawkeye being out of control.

     He’d seen her drunk a handful of times in Ishval in the days where the war was over but troops weren’t being shipped out yet. She hadn’t been the outgoing, cuddly drunk she was in the bar. She’d been angry and silent. Hughes had gone into her tent to check on her one night and came back out with shaking hands and both of her guns. Roy had asked what happened but Hughes just shook his head and said she’d feel better when she sobered up.

     “I think I might be a little tipsy, maybe,” she said, pulling him out of his memories.

     He smiled despite himself.

     “Tipsy, huh?”

     “I’m sleepy,” she sighed, propping her chin on her hand.

     “Do you want to go home?”

     “Rebecca said she’d walk home with me but I think she’s trying to seduce Havoc.” Roy followed her line of sight and saw Catalina smiling a rather frightening smile with her hand resting on Havoc’s arm.

     “I can walk with you.”

     “Where’s your car?” She yawned out.

     “Headquarters.”

     “Oh. Well, I live close to here.”

     He bit back a laugh. “I’m aware, Lieutenant.”

     She looked around. “I had a purse when I came here.”

     “I have it,” he said, turning and pulling it off the back of his chair. He held it out to her and to his horror, she teared up.

     “What’s wrong?”

     “That was nice of you to make sure it didn’t get crushed.” She swiped clumsily at her nose. “Let me just tell Rebecca I’m leaving.” She immediately stumbled so Roy got up and put a hand on her back to help guide her over to the bar. Rebecca eyed him suspiciously but eventually gave her blessing for Roy to walk Riza home.

     The air outside was cool and Roy breathed deeply, grateful to be free of the smoky air of the bar. Riza put her arm around his waist as they walked, making Roy smile. “Feet working correctly?” He joked. She stopped and looked down at her boots, brow furrowing. Roy laughed and she looked up at the sound.

     “I like when you laugh,” she said. She started walking forward again, issue with her feet forgotten. “I wish you did it more often.”

     “I could say the same about you, Lieutenant.” They walked down the street in a comfortable silence until Roy noticed Riza shivering. “Here,” he said, shrugging off his black coat and handing it to her. She accepted it with a nod.

     “Thank you.”

     They reached her apartment and Roy helped her stumble up the stairs. They reached the door and Riza opened her purse and started fumbling through it. She huffed angrily and yanked the clip from her hair. It was an awkward length, just at her shoulders. Roy secretly hoped she would keep growing it out. He really enjoyed how it softened her face.

     “Roy,” she sighed handing her purse to him. He felt a jolt of surprise at the use of his first name, something he hadn’t heard from her since he the night he destroyed her tattoo. He took the bag and quickly fished her keys out. He unlocked the door and followed her inside.

     “How do you feel?” He asked, noticing that she was getting even clumsier. “Do you feel sick?”

     She took a deep breath, considering the question. “No. Not sick. I need to pee though.”

     “Can you handle that on your own?” He thought back to the day after he’d burned her when he had to help her pee. He didn’t particularly want to relive the experience.

     “I got it,” she chirped, flashing him another smile. She went to her bedroom and Roy walked into her small kitchen to see if she had the ingredients for his personal favorite drunk meal. Potatoes, eggs, cheese.

     He was almost done chopping a potato when Hawkeye walked in the kitchen wearing pajamas. She’d clearly just splashed water on her face. “What are you doing?” She asked.

     “I’m making you some food so your hangover doesn’t kill you tomorrow.” He jumped at the feel of her arms wrapping around his waist. He relaxed when she laid her head against his back. “What’s this for, Lieutenant?” He chuckled.

     “You’re being sweet to me,” she answered. He turned and ran his fingers through her hair before he could think better of it.

     “Why don’t you sit on the couch and I’ll bring you the food once it’s done?”

     She nodded against him. “That sounds good.”

     He heard her click on the radio and he listened to it as he fried the potatoes. He laid them on a plate, sprinkling cheese over them to melt while he fried the egg. He brought the plate out to her and stopped, studying her in the dim light of the lamp.

     She was curled up on one corner of the couch, her knees pulled up close to her chest. She had her head resting on the arm of the couch. Roy thought she might have been asleep but then he heard her humming along to the radio. He listened for a few seconds. “This song is nice,” he finally noted.

     She opened her eyes and lifted her head, that big smile changing her already pretty face to something stunning

     “Hungry?” He asked, sitting beside her on the couch.

     “I guess so,” she said, taking the plate from his hands. She took a bite and nodded after she’d swallowed. “This is good.”

     “Cheese and grease are always good when you’re drunk.”

     “I’m not drunk,” she told him, taking another bite.

     “Oh?”

     “Not drunk. I only did two shots.”

     “No,” he said. “You had two drinks. You did five or six shots.”

     She squinted at him. “No. I don’t think so.”

     He was suddenly struck by how cute she looked. Her brown eyes were bleary and her cheeks were still flushed, her hair just a bit messy. She finished her food and put the plate on her coffee table.

     “Thank you,” she said quietly. Her drunken cheerfulness was gone. She seemed solemn.

     “What’s wrong?”

     “Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I didn’t join the military.” He’d often wondered what her life would be too. But it still shocked him to hear her say it. She’d been such a shy and sweet person when he met her. Maybe she would have lived a life filled with the books she loved. Maybe she would have gotten married to someone simple and had a chance to be really happy.

     He didn’t realize he’d been thinking out loud until he saw her nodding.

     “Maybe we could have gotten married,” she said. “You loved me back then, didn’t you?”

     “Riza, I love you now. You know that.” He wasn’t the one who was drunk but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out anyway.

     “I love you too,” she sighed. “But we’ll never be together and I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault because I joined the military.”

     “Do you…do you regret it?”

     “No,” she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I get to protect you. That’s something I can never regret or resent.”

     “But do you wish we could have had a life together? Really together? Kids, a house, all that.”

     “Sometimes,” she said after a long pause. “But wishing doesn’t change anything. Our lives are the way they are and that’s all we get.”

     He felt like he’d failed her. She gave him her whole life and he had nothing to give her in return but heartache and unrealized dreams. “Hey,” she said. Her tone was more than a little sleepy but the usual stern note it carried was there. “Stop that.”

     “Stop what?”

     “Hating yourself over my decisions.”

     He shook his head. “You’re tired. Why don’t you go to bed?”

     She nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” She stood, stretched, and then headed towards her room. Roy didn’t quite trust her coordination yet so he followed behind her, watching her back for once. She lay down in the bed and then got frustrated at the blanket tangled in her legs. He smiled and untangled the covers, pulling them up around her shoulders.

     “Thanks,” she murmured, giving him one last small smile.

     Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto her forehead. “Goodnight, Riza.”

     “G’night, Roy.”

     He watched as her eyelids fluttered shut and her face relaxed. Before he left, he washed the dishes he’d used and then filled a glass with water and placed it along with two aspirin on Hawkeye’s bedside table. Using her phone, he called a cab.

     He stole one last glance at his sleeping Lieutenant before putting on his coat and leaving the apartment, turning the doorknob to make sure it was locked.

     “Visiting someone special?” The cab driver asked once he realized Roy wasn’t drunk.

     Roy smiled, picturing Riza sleeping soundly with her blonde hair spilled around her. “Yeah,” he answered. “I was.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are really appreciated! If you're willing, I'd like to hear what you like and didn't like. I love you for reading!


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